Recovery
by SuperYuuki
Summary: SEQUEL TO REGENERATION.  Ulquiorra is dead.  He understands this.  But now he has something - someone - to whom he wishes to return.


**A/N Jayshock, you get no credit for this story. Face it.**

** I realized how much people liked the first one so I decided to write it from Ulquiorra's POV. This one is going to be a bit more . . . poetic. **

**Also, there is quite a bit of canon in this.**

**Disclaimer: As I said, I no own Bleach, 'cause if I did, THIS WOULD ACTUALLY HAPPEN!**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . .**

心在るが故に妬み I envy because of the heart  
>心在るが故に喰らい I glutton because of the heart<br>心在るが故に奪い I covet because of the heart  
>心在るが故に傲り I am prideful because of the heart<br>心在るが故に惰り（あなどり） I sloth because of the heart  
>心在るが故に怒り I rage because of the heart<br>心在るが故に Because of the heart  
>お前のすべてを欲する I lust for everything about you<p>

**. . . . . . . . . . . .**

So. He was dead. Normally, he wouldn't care. He'd even told that Kurosaki boy to kill him once he started turning to dust. But now, now, he had something – someone – to whom he wished to return.

Inoue Orihime.

At first he tried to deny the feeling, it was duty to protect the woman, nothing else at that time. But it was more than that. He _felt_ for the woman, with her claims of the heart, and her undying faith in her friends.

Faith at one time he desired to crush. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why had he wanted to do such a thing, and to _her_ none-the-less.

He finally understood what this 'heart' was.

. . . . . . . .

Time passed. Days, weeks, months, he never really kept track.

Ulquiorra found himself remembering the day he died.

_ That one blow did it. He lasted for quite awhile afterwards, but only long enough to attempt to buy himself enough time to finish off Kurosaki. The boy had blown away half his body, it was miracle he had been able to get up after that, let alone fight, but he'd started regenerating his lost limbs. The internal organs, though, wouldn't return. At least, not right away. It would take years for them to re-grow._

_ That was, if he survived this fight, which at the moment was improbable._

_ The Kurosaki boy . . . he was no longer in that hollow form. "Then cut off my arm and leg, too," he said._

_ It made no sense. He had an advantage, he should take it._

_ The woman called out the boy's name, surprised._

_ The boy continued, "That wasn't me fighting you. That was my hollow form. I had no control over it. If you want to settle this, it won't be fair unless we're in the same condition!"_

_ "Kurosaki!" called out the injured Quincy, "Do you realize what you're saying . . . Kurosaki!"_

_ Ulquiorra exhaled softly. " . . .All right. If that's what you want."_

_ He was about to take a step towards the boy, when a sudden sensation overcame him. He was . . . dissolving. Turning slightly, he saw that his wings were dispersing into dust._

_ "Ah," Ulquiorra said, "I guess that's it for me." He turned back to face the boy. "Kill me," he said flatly._

_ Kurosaki's eyes widened in shock. He was just standing there, hadn't Ulquiorra just told him to kill him?_

_ "Hurry up. I don't even have the strength to walk. If you don't kill me now, this will never be over . . ." Ulquiorra commanded._

_ ". . . I won't do it."_

_ Huh? ". . . What?"_

_ ". . . I said I – no . . . This . . ." The boy suddenly looked straight at him and yelled, "Isn't the way I wanted to win!"_

_ Ulquiorra stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. ". . . hmph. Even in the end, you never do what I want." _

_He turned to the woman, who was standing a fair distance from them, a concerned look on her face, and her hand raised to chest level as if she wanted to help, but could think of no way. "I'm finally starting to find you guys a little interesting."_

'_What is that?' __Ulquiorra thought._

'_What would I see if I ripped open your chest? If I cracked open your skull, what would I see inside?'_

_ Her concerned expression took on a sad undertone. As he reached out to her with one hand, her face shifted in mild shock. Almost . . . fear._

_ "Are you scared of me, woman?"_

_ She took a breath, and when she spoke, she seemed like the most beautiful thing in the world to him, "I'm not scared," she said, loud and clear, her face distorted slightly in sadness._

_ He stared at her for a moment. In this form, he could give nightmares to grown men, but this one young woman was not afraid of him at all._

_ "I see."_

_ '__Oh, I get it.'_

_ She stepped forward and tried to grab a hold of his outstretched hand._

_'This is it.'_

_'This here in my hand.'_

_ He was just as surprised as she was when it collapsed into ashes. The air flow from her movement towards him sent the rest of him flying away, dust on the wind._

_ '__The heart.'_

. . . . . . . . .

So. Here he was. Dead. But, why didn't he _feel_ dead. He'd found his heart . . . wait.

No. It wasn't here. That feeling he'd had when he died, it wasn't there anymore. Wait. Yes, it was. It just wasn't with him. Someone else had it. Who had he given the feeling to? He shifted through his fading memories, looking for the one who had his heart.

Then it dawned on him.

Inoue Orihime. The woman had it!

. . . . . . . .

With this sudden realization, he opened his eyes.

Wait - What?

He did a mental check of himself. He was lying in his half-regenerated body, with sinew and muscle showing through in places and he noticed he only had one eye at the moment.

So . . . this means that part of him had survived the battle.

But . . . what, exactly?

Of course! The heart! The woman had it!

The energy that it had taken to regenerate this far taxed him much. Even though he'd only just regained consciousness, he found himself drifting off to sleep.

. . . . . . . .

He awoke what seemed only moments later, but in reality was weeks. Opening his eyes to an unfamiliar place, he slowly sat up.

The room was dark. As his eyes adjusted, he could just barely distinguish vague shapes of the things in the room.

Suddenly, he heard a creek, and a beam of light shone into the room. His eyes revolted against the glaring light. After a few seconds, his eyes re-adjusted and he locked eyes with young child, maybe seven or eight years of age, with huge puppy-dog eyes and her hair hanging in an odd way in front of her face.

Without warning, the girl called out, "Jinta! I think it's awake! Go tell Urahara."

"YOU GET 'IM!" called this 'Jinta' from a small distance away.

"Please, Jinta!"

An angry muttering could be heard as whoever this 'Jinta' went to do what was asked.

Ulquiorra just sat there for a moment, vaguely disturbed by the whole exchange.

The child continued to stand there, timidly peeking in the door. Ulquiorra began to get annoyed. "Girl," he said.

She wasn't even startled; she just continued to stand there as she had been, "Yes?"

"Staring is very rude."

"Oh. Sorry," she moved away from the door and shut it behind her.

And so then it was dark.

. . . . . . . . .

"Ah, you can't believe how worried we were for a while. We thought you weren't going to make it," said the cheerful shop owner.

They were seated at a table, and Urahara had served him tea. The tea at Las Noches had been strong, black tea, while this tea had sugar and cream added to it to make it taste better. Ulquiorra decided that he only vaguely liked it. Vaguely.

"I WASN'T WORRIED AT ALL! DARN ARRANCAR SHOULD DIE IN HELL!" yelled 'Jinta.'

A man with a black apron walked in and grabbed Jinta by the collar of his shirt. "You! You have work to do, mister!" and so the boy was dragged away, kicking and screaming, but at least he was gone.

Ulquiorra set down his tea cup. "After I… was defeated, what became of the woman?"

Urahara turned his head to the side. "Woman? I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific than that."

He cleared his throat. "Inoue Orihime."

The shop-keeper seemed a bit surprised. "What a coincidence. She came in earlier today to ask about you. If you'd regenerate."

He tensed. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her it was unlikely, which it was, as not to worry her."

The Arrancar stayed silent. The gapping hole in his chest was filled with an uncomfortable sensation, one that he knew would only be chased away by her smile. "I need to see her."

Urahara frowned. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, Ulquiorra-san."

He ignored him. "I am in need of some normal clothing, perhaps a gigai."

"Ulquiorra-san-"

"Aizen has been defeated, Urahara-san, I noticed this the moment I awoke. I have no reason to cause Inoue any harm, quite the opposite, actually."

For a moment, the shop-keep looked shocked. "Are you trying to say that you-"

"I will say it once more, Urahara-san, I need to see Inoue Orihime."

. . . . . . . . .

It was a dreary day outside. Rain clouds were looming on the horizon and everything simply felt cold. It was strangely fitting.

Ulquiorra had clothed himself in a simple black sweater and gray dress pants. Urahara had given him a green and black striped scarf to wear, which was snugly wrapped around his neck.

He took a deep breath. How long had it been since his fateful defeat? Days? Months? _Years?_ Would the woman even recognize him? What if… what if she was afraid of him?

No. She wasn't afraid. She'd said so herself, and although human did have a tendency to say things without meaning them, Inoue was not like that. She spoke her mind, she always did.

He knocked on the door to her apartment, and waited.

And waited.

When no one answered, he knocked again, a bit concerned.

A moment passed, and the door opened to reveal Inoue. Her hair was untidy and her hairpins were currently removed. She rubbed one eye with her fist. "Look, I'm kinda busy right no-" she stopped as she actually saw him.

Now he could see that her eyes were red and inflamed. Carefully, he reached out and gently grabbed her chin, tilting her face up as to get a better look. On her cheeks were tear tracks, ironically. "You have been crying," he stated plainly.

She seemed so beautifully shocked. "I – I thought you were dead," she stammered.

He brought his hand back to his sides, slipping them into his pockets. "I regenerated."

Inoue assumed a concerned posture. "How? There was nothing left of you."

Ulquiorra almost wanted to smile. "Yes, there was."

When her face began to signs of slight annoyance, Ulquiorra had to quash a snicker. "What was left?" she asked.

He wanted to say it in way she'd understand. Perhaps he'd merely speak plainly. "The heart."

Her blank expression made him want to smile, but he held it back.

"You should know, woman. You have it."

For once, Ulquiorra could truly say he was happy.


End file.
